


baby, you and i ~

by midnighth0wls



Series: dream of me tonight [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, M/M, Magic, Romance, Supernatural Elements, other members mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnighth0wls/pseuds/midnighth0wls
Summary: In which Jisung wakes up one day to find out he can't dream.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: dream of me tonight [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858462
Comments: 12
Kudos: 93





	1. silent night

**Author's Note:**

> hello ~  
> long time no see,  
> i hope everyone is staying safe and healthy!  
> baby, good night has a sequel !!! surprise !!!  
> if you're new, i recommend reading the first part before this one, or else it might not make much sense; if you read baby, good night already, happy reading and enjoy! ~

Jisung woke up with a gasp.

The early morning sunlight filtered through the slit between the curtains he didn't properly close the night before. It was all quiet save for the low whir of the fan, his heavy breathing, and the erratic beat of his heart right in his ears. It took Jisung two, three, four exhalations to calm down, taking in his surroundings with wide eyes and slowly relaxing, sinking back into his mattress, as he recognized the familiar stuff around his room.

The pale blue walls he begged his mum to have when he had just started high school, the several posters of bands he liked and shows he used to watch as a kid, the fake orchid he had on his desk, alongside his small collection of seashells he picked up years ago, and the books he had promised himself he'd read but hadn't, yet.

Mind at peace, and feeling it was way too early to be awake (especially on summer holidays!), he closed his eyes, hoping to get back to his dream... whatever that had been. Jisung frowned; no matter how hard he tried to remember, how much he racked his brain for even the slightest memory - he came up blank.

He willed himself not to overthink, but that was unexpected. Ever since he met Minho (though under rather unfortunate circumstances), he could recall each nightmare the demon put him through, each dream the other came up with. And even before meeting him, Jisung could remember fragments of his dreams, impressions they had left after he woke up.

But it seemed his mind had no recollections of tonight's, for all he could see was darkness.

 _Don't panic, don't panic_ , he muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, curling up in a ball until he could hug his legs. He tried again, with all his might, determined to find even the smallest remembrance of big, dark eyes and a sweet smile.

This time, however, a feeble feeling of something soft, smooth like silk, yet sticky at touch, creeped out from the back of his mind, effectively alarming Jisung. He scrambled to get out of bed, miserably failing when he slipped on the bed sheet and fell face-first to the floor. The dull pain in his nose couldn't seem to distract him from that creepy sensation, and he couldn't discern if the rapid thumping in his chest was a consequence of that or his fall. Probably the former.

The sound of muffled pounding on the wall next to his bed made Jisung's head snap up, a hand covering his nose in case it started bleeding. Following the knocking came the sleepy voice of his brother, asking if he was alive. When he made sure he didn't have a nosebleed (thankfully), he replied, affirming he was indeed alive, loud enough for his brother to hear but not to wake up the rest of the house. It wouldn't be fun trying to come up with an excuse for whatever was going on right now; how could he explain something he couldn't even wrap his head around.

Jisung briefly considered going back to bed, but quickly discarded the idea when he took notice of his shaky, clammy hands. And if he was honest with himself, he was scared of what he would find if he closed his eyes - or the lack of that something.

With careful steps, he left his room to wash his face, ignoring the bright red spot in his forehead from his fall. Feeling refreshed and more awake than before, he headed for the kitchen to serve himself a well-deserved bowl of cereal. He grabbed an apple, too, to compensate for the over-sugared food he was about to consume. His mother would be proud.

Early as it was, the only sounds that accompanied him were the chirping of birds and the low hum of the fridge. In the rather quiet atmosphere, Jisung got lost in his thoughts.

Could it have been a prank from Minho? The other was rather mischievous when he wanted, and enjoyed getting on his nerves. What if he had thrown a dark mantle over his head? Trapped him in a pitch-black room? The possibilities were countless, considering the power he had over his dreams, but wouldn't have Jisung felt any of that? _Remembered_ it, at the very least?

 _What if Minho_... Jisung shuddered, not daring to finish that thought. The demon promised to never put him through that experience again, and he believed, wholeheartedly, that Minho would keep his word.

Then, was he ghosting him? 

He couldn't help but frown, spoon pausing halfway to his mouth. A few corns of cereal fell back into the bowl, little droplets of milk splashing the front of his shirt.

Had he gotten bored of the thing they had? Of the uncertainty of their relationship? Of what they never talked about but was glaringly obvious?

Jisung shook his head.

Maybe he was busy, or they had more workload during summer at _InSomnia_. Maybe another human had been cursed and was assigned to Minho. Maybe he had forgotten sleep time was a thing and Jisung needed rest to function properly.

Any and every option he could think of that helped him stay grounded, feel less suffocated.

"You're up early, dear. Did you have a nightmare?"

The voice of his mother snapped Jisung out of his trance. His bowl of cereal had turned soggy after a long while deep in thought.

☾ °☆

"Why did you even come if you aren't paying attention!"

Jisung scoffed at his friend's exasperated outburst, catching the ball tossed at his direction. He bounced it as he jogged closer to the basket.

"I was paying attention."

"No, you were miserably looking at the horizon as if you were the main character of a poorly-written teen romance book."

Changbin burst out laughing, loud and irritating, and Jisung threw the ball at his face. Too bad the other caught it before it could do any damage.

"You're so mean, the worst, why are we friends?" he whined, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. Changbin scored and shoot them a boastful smile they both ignored.

"We grew up together and I tolerate you," Seungmin answered casually, bending down to pick up the ball that had rolled close to his feet. "And who else lends you their notes?"

"You're right. I was absolutely wrong. Blinded. You're the best, my bestest friend in the world. I love you," he replied, in the most monotonous tone he could muster. 

"Gross, but I love you too," his friend muttered with a fond roll of his eyes. He started bouncing the ball, scowling when Changbin smacked it and it rebounded far from where the trio was standing. "Now, care to explain to your dear, lifelong friend why are you so out of it today?"

"What makes you think so? I'm perfectly okay," he knew for sure they wouldn't buy his lie, but there was no harm in trying. What he was feeling was very much valid, he was aware of that, yet he felt ridiculous. Like he was making a mountain out of a molehill.

"Right, that's why you got an strawberry frozen yogurt earlier when we all know you hate the artificial flavour," Changbin intervened, patting Jisung's back with mock sympathy. That he couldn't deny.

"It's just..." he heaved a long sigh, head tipped back. The sunrays were strong on his face, but the breeze that blew was refreshing. When he looked back at his friends, Seungmin had raised an eyebrow, patiently waiting for him to continue. "I don't remember dreaming anything tonight, and I'm worried."

His friends exchanged confused glances.

"And that's concerning because...?" Changbin started, and he appreciated his question didn't sound judging, just genuinely intrigued.

"The only means of contact with Minho while I'm away for the summer holidays is through my dreams," he explained, using all of his willpower to not curse the demon for refusing to buy a cellphone, no matter how many times he insisted. Being almost a century old was no excuse not to learn about the new technologies.

"So no dreams, no beau?" Changbin smirked, put an arm around Seungmin's shoulders and wiggled his eyebrows. "Sucks to be you."

"You're doing it again!" Jisung groaned, aiming a kick at his shin. He let the satisfaction he felt show in his face when the other crouched down with a grimace. "Why do you keep trying to one-up me like we're in some type of competition? You only asked Seungmin out because you felt threatened I'd date someone before you," he exclaimed, then turned to the aforementioned with a frown. "Why did you even accept."

"I find joy in your suffering," the sweet, innocent smile he gave him didn't match his words in the slightest. Seungmin's power was astounding. "And unfortunately, I also like him."

A high-pitched squeal caught their attention, and for a moment, they observed a group of children chase each other past the neighbourhood's basketball court and down the street. They could still hear their peals of laughter even after they disappeared from view.

"Jisung," Seungmin called him. Despite the prior teasing and joking, his friend was now giving him an earnest look. "It's only been one night, don't rack your brains."

"You're right," he mumbled, completely ignoring Seungmin's ' _I always am_ ' as he walked over to their abandoned ball. 

☾ °☆

Jisung tried not to worry.

For the remainder of the day, he played card games with his brother. Between struggling to remember the rules and figuring out what was the older doing to win every single time, he successfully kept his mind occupied enough to leave the matter on the back burner. After dinner, his parents joined them; Jisung ended up crying with laughter at his brother's growing scowl when their mother kept kicking their asses round after round.

When the clock was close to strike midnight, everyone in the Han household had retired to their bedrooms. It was peaceful, the kind of calm only night time could bring; yet Jisung felt anything but relaxed.

While he dried his hair with a towel after a quick, cold shower, he scrolled through the notifications in his phone - texts from his friends, a couple of photos Felix had sent him from his vacation back at his hometown, and other stuff from his social medias. Even when his eyes hurt from the glare of the screen and he battled to keep them open, he feared succumbing to sleepiness. He feared Seungmin wasn't right, and it wasn't a one-time situation. And foremost, he feared he wouldn't be able to find a solution to a problem he was unfamiliar with.

Despite his efforts, Jisung was indeed worried.

The sigh that escaped his lips was long and tired. In the end, no matter how long he put it off, he had to sleep. So with the towel thrown at some corner of his room, the lights off and his phone charging in his night stand, Jisung laid in his bed and let his eyes flutter shut.

When he woke up, it was to a not so dark room and a blank mind, feeling rested yet drained - as if however long he had been asleep, it had meant nothing. Checking the time in his phone, he realized he had squeezed in seven hours of sleep, but from the moment he closed his eyes to now, it felt like they had been mere minutes apart. Like his mind had been frozen in time with his sleeping self.

Jisung heard the faint hum of voices downstairs and the unmistakable clink of plates and cutlery. Before going down for breakfast, however, he approached his backpack and sat in front of it. He took out a worn out box, covered in patches of mildew and scratches it gained over time, and settled it over his crossed legs. Upon lifting the lid, Jisung smiled at the sight of his beloved mint-colored dreamcatcher Minho gifted him months ago. The feathers were a little dusty; Jisung had avoided cleaning them just in case he wasn't careful enough and they tore up. The beads held the same shine, and everything else seemed right in place, nothing out of the ordinary. If he hoped to find a clue in the dreamcatcher, he found none.

He had decided to forego hanging it in the wall over his bed's headboard, as it'd travel back to his dorm room once summer ended. But that couldn't have been a possible reason for the sudden absence of dreams - he had been playing hide and seek with Minho in the forest of his dreams two nights ago.

His stomach grumbled in protest, and that marked the end of his musings until he satiated his hunger. 

He carefully stored the dreamcatcher back in its box, then back in his backpack. He picked up the towel he had used last night to toss it in the laundry basket, washed his face with cold water and practiced in front of the mirror a neutral look in his face to hide his unease from his family.

Later in the morning, Jisung received a text from Seungmin inviting him over.

"Seungmin I need to borrow your laptop," he announced, first thing as he entered his friend's room. Said boy frowned from his bed, legs across Changbin's lap, and pointed to his desk without a second thought. "Thank you, dearest friend," Jisung exclaimed with humor, grabbing what he had asked for and taking a seat on the already crowded, single bed.

"May I ask why aren't you using yours?"

Jisung typed in the password before replying. "It's the price you have to pay for making me leave home in this scorching heat. And yours is brand new so I wanna use it."

Changbin turned to face Seungmin, "It's not even that hot today," but the other boy just shrugged and continued to observe the concentrated Jisung, nibbling at his bottom lip.

"Jisung, how did tonight go?" his friend asked, warily. Jisung seemed to deflate with the sigh he let go, pausing the typing into the search bar.

"Just nothing. It's as if my dreams have vanished, like I blink and it's suddenly the following day," he snapped his fingers to emphasize it, and resumed his task at hand. He hoped the Internet could help provide any solution. 

"Don't you think your case is quite too special to find answers on a healthcare center webpage? I mean, how many people do you know that have a demon appear in their dreams every night," Changbin asked, but Jisung was too busy scrolling down and skimming through the results that had pulled up to talk back. ' _Not Dreaming Is Almost As Bad As Sleep Deprivation_ ' read one, and well, that was just great.

"Maybe try typing... What was he?" Seungmin wondered. Jisung mumbled the answer. "See if you can find any relevant information on Nightmares."

And so he followed his suggestion. However, no matter how he changed the wording of his search, he only found dictionary entries, the origins of the term, or far too sketchy websites to even consider veridical. Not even Wikipedia helped. All the facts he knew about Nightmares had come from an actual one, and he doubted there'd be a demon willing to divulge all the details of their kind in a blog.

Jisung groaned, accidentally hitting his head with the wall behind him. "Nothing, not a single helpful thing."

Seungmin nudged him with his foot. "You could always try the library."

"Oh, right! You could narrow down your search and there's probably books as old as your demon," Changbin added.

Jisung considered the idea for a moment; according to the majority of his professors, books were always a more reliable source of information than the Internet. And despite not being in a big city, their library was of a significant size and plentiful holdings. It didn't hurt to try.

☾ °☆

"And why exactly are we here?"

"You're the one who mentioned it," Jisung whispered back, turning to look at Seungmin for a moment before facing the row of timeworn books he was scanning. None of its titles interested him.

"I suggested _you_ visit the library, but that didn't include us two," he gestured to Changbin and him, standing behind Jisung and obstructing the aisle they were in. A distant _shush_ was heard but the trio paid no mind.

"Did you really want me to look like an absolute loser coming here all alone?" he wiped a non-existent tear away, shaking his head. At the end of the row at the very top of the shelf, a book with golden details in its spine caught his eye, and Jisung stood on tiptoes to reach it. "You two can, like, pretend you're on a date or whatever," he waved his free hand, nonchalantly. Changbin snickered, the sound muffled by his hand.

"The dim lights and the musty smell sure make this place romantic," Seungmin sneered, elbowing his boyfriend in the ribs. 

After Jisung collected a few more books, they followed him to a nearby table. The couple entertained themselves with a children's picture book while he started his research, hoping that, this time, it would shed some light on the whole mystery surrounding his lack of dreams. 

The first book he picked was an old compilation of myths and legends, dating over fifty years ago. Despite the considerable number of pages, there were scarce references to nightmares, and they were all related to a supernatural being, of varying forms, that sat on people's chests while they slept to produce said bad dreams. As far as he knew, Minho had never, not once, sat on him; he would have felt such weight on top of his chest.

The second book he opened associated the ancient beliefs of nighttime creatures to sleep paralysis, which wasn't Jisung's case. Thus, the book was added to the rejected pile alongside the first one. The third followed a similar route as the previous one, and so did the fourth. With the pile of discarded books increasing, so did his despair. By the time he had gone through all the books he had chosen, his sulking had gotten so bad it managed to attract his friends' attention.

"No luck?" Seungmin asked in a murmur, with furrowed brows. Changbin peeked over his shoulder, mirroring his concern.

"None at all," Jisung sighed, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. He was running out of ideas and it was unnerving him, not being able to even discern the root of his problem, let alone solve it.

Seungmin placed a hand over his, resting on the table, and that's when he realized it had been shaking.

"You're doing all you can, Jisung, don't lose hope. It's not like you're running out of time, right? You can always try tomorrow, think of another approach."

His friend's words helped bring some comfort to his disconcerted mind. It was true that it didn't feel like he had to rush, like he was racing against time. Yet, why did he also feel like time didn't matter? That it was passing in a pace averse to all laws of nature? Uncontrollable, imprecise.

He didn't know how to word his thoughts, figure out a coherent explanation of it for his friends, so he simply kept his lips tightly shut.

"Why don't we call it a day?" Changbin clapped his hands and stood up, his chair giving a loud, scraping sound, looking at the other two with a serene smile. Someone hushed him from a nearby aisle.

Seungmin gently patted his shoulder and copying Changbin's example, the two also got to their feet. Jisung followed the couple to the exit and placed the books he had checked in a trolley he found near the staff's counter. A few meters from the entrance door, a sign caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, and he stopped his friends by grabbing the back of their shirts. The shriek that Changbin let out was received with a murderous look by the librarian at the front desk.

"Storytime is starting soon!" he exclaimed, glancing at the wall clock in front of them. "We have nothing else to do, let's go!"

"A reading session _aimed_ at children?" Seungmin asked, incredulous.

Jisung shrugged. "We get to be somewhere with air conditioning, plus it's free entertainment. Do you have a better recommendation?" at his friend's silence, he smirked, choosing to ignore Seungmin's annoyed eye roll.

He lead the way to the adjacent space were the storytime was going to take place. At the very front there was a handmade banner with bright, colorful letters spelling the title of the book, and Jisung smiled softly at the memories the distinctive drawings of a blond girl with a blue dress and a striped cat brought.

(Throughout the session, though, they tried hard to ignore the puzzled looks of children and parents alike, but they got a good laugh out of it once it ended.)

☾ °☆

Jisung was pensively lying in his bed, the fan in his room blowing cool air right in his face, when an idea suddenly came to his mind. He rushed to his desk to turn his laptop on, mentally chastising himself - how come he didn't think of that before? Since Minho didn't own a cellphone, he couldn't contact him, but he worked in a store, an establishment with a business that _had_ to have a contact number he could phone.

It was a small, faint, but significant flicker of hope.

As he waited for the search browser to load, Jisung started biting his nails. In the many times he had visited _InSomnia_ , not once had he seen a sign or a notice that indicated the store had any form of contact; but again, he hadn't asked, nor deliberately looked for it, so the possibility was still there.

When the page finally loaded he had to bite back the cry out of delight that almost escaped his throat (which in turn made him start coughing, but there was no need to mention that). Once he calmed down, he started typing.

Since _InSomnia_ was an actual term with a meaning and he was sick of looking at dictionary entries, he added the name of the neighbourhood. The first results redirected him to the page of a health center located there, where they conducted sleep studies. The other ones were links to comments on forums about people with sleeping problems. But not a single reference on what he was looking for.

He tried adding more information in his search, but he couldn't recall the exact address of the store. That made Jisung frown, yet he persevered. This time, he decided to try a different method - look for the store on the maps site. Once he was brought to the neighbourhood area, however, it took him over ten minutes to locate the bakery he sometimes went to, and from there, it was easier to follow his usual route to _InSomnia_. But even when he was sure he had found the building, there was nothing linked, not even the name of the establishment was stated. As if, it simply didn't exist.

Jisung was confused, disheartened. He let his hands fall back to his lap, head thrown back to mindlessly stare at the ceiling.

As the seconds ticked by, it became harder to blink back the tears.

The voice of his mother calling him for dinner snapped Jisung out of the whirlwind of grim thoughts inside his mind. He stood up, shook his head, and heaved a deep sigh to try to ease his tense shoulders. During dinner, he was sure his family had realized he wasn't feeling well, for he was unusually quiet, avoiding meeting their concerned glances. 

When they were done, though, his brother affectionately ruffled his hair, receiving a huff from Jisung in response, his father offered him his portion of dessert despite how much everyone knew he liked it, and his mother gently squeezed his hands, looking at his son with such fondness that he felt the strength return to his body. The silent support of his family filled him with newfound confidence, and he decided it was too soon to give up. Not when he could still do something else he hadn't fully considered before.

☾ °☆

Jisung returned to his dorm room before summer break ended.

That had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. He wasn't mean to return for another couple of weeks, and he had compromised to take the train ride back to campus with Seungmin (as Changbin would get back to his family a week prior to that).

But there he was now, alone, trying to take a quick nap on the three hours he had to get to his destination, earphones blaring music to drown out the loud rattling of the train.

His family had been quite skeptical about him leaving so soon, so sudden. Jisung had replied with the first thing that came to mind - that he had a job interview he couldn't postpone, and while he was back in campus, that he'd like to meet with some friends, so there wasn't a point in returning home to leave not so long after. Neither of those were true; all of his friends were still in their hometowns or traveling with their families, and he hadn't been looking for a part-time job. So when he managed to figure out his dilemma, he hoped Siyeon would let him work at _InSomnia_. After all the trouble he was going through...

The rest of the morning passed by in a blur - arriving to his dorm room, attempting to unpack, giving up halfway through and instead, going out to get lunch. Despite how early he had awoken that morning (without even an alarm, but he couldn't seem to sleep more than a few hours a day), he wasn't tired in the slightest. Jisung had an objective in mind, and not even a few days of barely-there rest would stop him.

Hunger satiated, he set to it.

The way to _InSomnia_ seemed longer than usual with how hot it was out on the streets, the sun up high in the sky. His shirt was uncomfortably sticking to his back, his fringe damp and disheveled. He resorted to fanning his face with a hand, regardless of how little that helped. Jisung almost cried tears of joy when he spotted the store, but the feeling was brief - the big window was covered by a thick, dark curtain from the inside, making it impossible to see the displayed items and the little speck of the interior usually visible from outside. That was odd. 

Upon closer look, he took notice of the handwritten sign hung on the door.

' _We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience._ InSomnia _will remain closed until further notice._ '

Jisung frowned, squinting at the letters as he read the sentences over and over again. That was indeed inconvenient.

He turned around, worrying his bottom lip. As he started his walk back to campus, there was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he couldn't seem to ignore. His lack of dreams wasn't just a problem that he had, but one he was involved in; not only him, though, _InSomnia_ and its employees as well. The fact that the store had always been open when he most needed help, but happened to be closed now, was as much an evidence as it was a perplexity. If he was part of the problem, whatever that was, why were they keeping away from him?

He couldn't understand it, and feeling how much it was draining his energy to brood on the possibilities, trying to make sense of the situation, he decided to put it aside until tomorrow.

However, when he returned the following day to find the store with the same curtains shielding the interior and the same sign outside, Jisung felt a bubble of irritation form inside of him, hot and raw, threatening to consume him. To let out some of that bothersome emotion, he kicked the front door with a choked scream, and pretended he didn't feel pleased when he noticed the mark he left in the wooden surface.

He waited a few seconds, eyes closed to help sharpen his hearing, concentrate on any sound coming from the store - muffled steps, the soft clinking of the entrance's bells, or even a faint snarl for the damage he had caused at the door. But there was nothing, no sign that there was someone inside. Almost as if the store was vacant.

That made Jisung wonder, for a fleeting moment, if it all had been a fever dream; the store, its employees, the _magic_. He quickly shook his head to dispell those thoughts. His memories were too vivid, too real, for it to have been a delusion. Minho was real, so was Siyeon, the nightmares and dreams, the tea he had enjoyed so many times.

And he wanted them all back in his life.

☾ °☆

The third day he had planned to head to _InSomnia_ , he was surprised by a text from Chan. It was short and straight to the point, requesting Jisung to meet him in the entryway of his building. The text had come right in the moment he had been about to leave his room, but that precise timing wasn't particularly astounding, because, well, Chan knew everything. He didn't even waste time pondering how did he know he was back in campus when he hadn't told any of his friends - except Seungmin (and by extension, Changbin), and maybe he had divulged that information, but it didn't really matter in the end.

The moment Chan spotted him exiting the door and walking up to him, he raised a hand to wave, rather stiffly, lips curling up in a tight smile. Jisung clutched the strap of his cross bag tightly, trying not to furrow his brow at his unusual behaviour, a Chan that was soft edges and a calm demeanour. When the older received him with a hug, hands rubbing his back despite the searing heat of that day, he felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. Chan was as serious as he had ever seen him, but that comforting embrace had meant Jisung wasn't the root of his sobriety.

Few words were exchanged as they started walking. Chan asked about his wellbeing, and by the way he had formulated the question, the way his eyes were looking right at him as if he could see his soul, told Jisung that he already knew about his lack of dreams, about his predicament, and maybe even about what he had been up to the past two days. He belatedly realized they were taking the route to _InSomnia_ , even though he had been too distracted to register it - Chan had taken the lead, and he was merely following him.

Chan knew something he wasn't telling him, that much was obvious even to Jisung. 

Nonetheless, Jisung trusted his friend. If he had wanted to meet up, and accompany him to _InSomnia_ , that's because he considered his presence important. What was about to unfold, even if he had no inkling of what it could be, was making him anxious. He just hoped it would finally give some sort of solace to his worries. But an explanation would be nice, too.

When they reached the store, it looked the exact same as the previous days except for a little detail - the sign on the door had disappeared.

Chan pushed the door open. The hinges squeaked loudly with the movement, revealing a dim lighted interior and the strong smell of incense and citric he would have never associated _InSomnia_ with. The store was silent, and despite the familiar feeling it gave Jisung, it also felt foreign; there was something in the air, charged as it was, that settled in his bones in a suffocating, tight grip. 

His older friend marched straight ahead with purpose, and Jisung followed him close behind, carefully stepping over a dusty, forgotten box in the floor. When Chan stopped before the counter, he moved to stand beside him.

The first thing he noticed was the tight-lipped smile Siyeon was sporting, uncharacteristic of her easy-going personality. She looked at Jisung with a mix of guilt, reserve and frustration, that he couldn't make the meaning of.

Then, he spotted the woman with magenta hair he had met once - Minji. The demon kept her face guardedly blank, eyes observing the newcomers impassively as if she had already known about their arrival, as if it had been no surprise that Jisung would come with a companion.

Jisung swallowed, the sound almost deafening in the deathly quiet store, and focused his attention on the two women to Siyeon's left he had never seen before. The smaller one, with long, garnet hair and a strong glare that left Jisung cowering, taking a minuscule, imperceptible step back, and the taller of the two, eye-catching orange hair braided over her shoulder, features soft, elegant, yet stern. Power seemed to emanate from the latter, circling her form in protective waves.

"Long time no see, Jisung," Minji gave him a small, welcoming smile. Her eyes travelled from him to Chan. "Quite a special friend you've got there."

Chan lightly bowed his head, but said no word to that statement.

"Bang Chan, the Seer," spoke the orange haired woman, with a sort of respect that could have only been gained with time. 

"Handong," his friend replied, brief as the smile that appeared on his lips.

Jisung was left stunned, watching the interaction with wide eyes. They knew each other? Chan was acquainted with the people at _InSomnia_? And what was that about that title... a Seer? Even though that explained _a lot_ , why did Chan keep that a secret? Not only what he was, but his apparent relation with the store and its people. Jisung's head was a disarray of thoughts, jumbled, blaring, that he couldn't seem to put them into words.

"Oh, introductions!" exclaimed Siyeon, clapping her hands a couple of times. Despite the cheery tone she used, Jisung could tell she wasn't being herself, that it was just a carefully built facade to hide her unease. He had spent enough time with her to be able to discern her real character. "This is Bora, a Nightmare, too," she pointed to the shorter woman, then the one that had addressed Chan. "And this is Handong, our resident Witch."

Jisung didn't care about introductions, but the words got stuck in his throat.

"Nice to meet you, Jisung, we've heard lots about you," Handong smiled, and he felt those waves of power reach out to him, gently brushing him, but enough to make his breath hitch.

"With how many times you've been around it's a wonder we only meet now," Bora piped up, the hint of a smirk in her voice. Jisung almost missed the way Siyeon kicked her, the movement partially hidden behind the counter.

"I hope you've had a great time so far this summer," Minji started drumming her nails in the counter's hard surface, the tap-tapping seemingly echoing the rapid beating of Jisung's heart. "Siyeon said you worked really hard on your finals."

"Jisung is hard-working and smart, and the promise of tea really worked to motivate that witty brain of his," the Siren chuckled, gaze fixed somewhere to Jisung's right; he had noticed Siyeon was avoiding meeting his eyes.

That was the last straw to Jisung's patience. Out of all of his thoughts, there was one that prevailed over the hundreds of them, and before someone could make more pointless small talk he decided to interrupt.

"It's-"

"Where's Minho?"

His question was met with silence, but he couldn't say he didn't expect that. The previous conversation had been a very obvious attempt at eluding that possible topic. Big was his surprise, however, when Chan was the first one to talk.

"He deserves to know," he stated, tone earnest and commanding, that denoted there were more implied words to what he had uttered. An unspoken advice, or a warning.

The dread steadily forming in Jisung's heart was painful.

Minji heaved a sigh, hands on her hips. "You're right," she muttered, composing her features to remain calm as she faced the human. "Minho's missing."

If the music box had been playing its melody, it would have abruptly stopped. If the wall clocks had been ticking, they would have slowed down until they froze in time. If Jisung had been prepared for that revelation, the tears wouldn't have easily fallen - but he hadn't been, and it took all of his self control not to cry. His nails left little indents in the palms of his hands with how tightly he was clenching his fists. He approached the counter on shaky legs.

"What do you mean he's missing," he demanded, pretending his voice didn't waver. The demon held his gaze for a few seconds in which he begrudgingly awaited her answer - they couldn't afford losing precious time, and although he wanted as many details as possible, his patience was beginning to thin. Especially when his demon was involved.

"It's been almost a week, and he's nowhere to be found," Minji glanced at the Siren briefly. "Siyeon said it's rare for Minho to be away for so long without telling anyone. So it's safe to assume he can't come back, wherever he is."

"D-do you have a clue where he might be?" Jisung asked. Chan placed a comforting hand in the small of his back, and he leaned towards that warmth.

"Handong has an inkling," Bora nodded her head at the Witch, motioning her to disclose her thoughts.

"There's a possibility he's trapped in the dream realm."

Jisung stared at the orange haired woman, wide-eyed. "Trapped... in the dream realm? How does that happen? Isn't he able to, like, freely roam around it?"

"Do you know about Freud's analogy with the iceberg?" Minji waited until Jisung confirmed her question to continue. "It comes in pretty handy to explain how the dream realm works. The top, small section of the iceberg that we see above the water is the part of the realm where Nightmares work, where we can easily access everyone's dreams. But the rest of the iceberg that lies beneath the water surface is a mystery, a part of the realm no being knows about, for it is unpredictable, unexplored, and therefore, dangerous."

"And that is where you think he might be?"

"It's a theory," Minji shrugged, looking at the other three to corroborate her words.

"Is Minho's disappearance related to why I haven't been dreaming lately?"

Jisung's question took them by surprise, shockingly. He tried not to squirm under their undivided attention and confused stares. Didn't they know that, already? That's why he was there, right?

"I-it adds up. You said it's been close to a week since he's been gone, so have been my dreamless nights," he added, fidgeting with his hands.

After a few more seconds of staring, Minji looked at Chan, squinted at him, thoughtful and calculating, until she seemed to find an answer in the eyes of his silent friend.

"We'll have to find out," she finally stated, but it didn't soothe Jisung's worries. It still left him feeling restless, troubled.

"How will we find him?"

" _We_?" Siyeon interjected, raising an eyebrow at the human as she leaned forward. Her features had hardened, an strange sight on the lively Siren. "There's no way in Hell you're participating in this, Jisung, you-"

The boy raised both his hands to place them over his ears, and began to loudly hum the tune of a nursery song to drown out the voice of the blonde haired. The glare Siyeon sent his way made his hair stand on end, but he wasn't going to back off when her voice could potentially mess with his mind. He adored Siyeon, but he couldn't let her win this time.

"Minji and Bora will search for Minho in the dream realm," Handong announced, effectively stopping the human's tantrum. "Since we've already established he's not in their area of work, they'll have to look for him in the lower territory of the realm."

"I wanna go, too," Jisung exclaimed, banging his fist on the counter. Siyeon was quick to shook her head.

"That's not possible. Humans aren't meant to explore that part of the realm outside their own dreams," the Witch explained, but it fell on deaf ears.

"Going there would mean losing your humanity," Siyeon added, frowning. "I can't let you do that, Jisung."

"Does it look like I care?"

Bora snickered, hiding her amusement behind a hand and ignoring the Siren's dirty look. That wasn't the time to find his retorts humorous.

"We're talking about your essence, the quality that makes you human. You'd lose your mortality!" she raised her voice, exasperated. 

While Jisung and Siyeon continued going back and forth with their dispute, close to shouting at each other's faces, Minji kept her eyes fixated on Chan, almost as if a conversation was being held with their gazes alone. When the demon seemed to have found something in their wordless exchange, she raised a hand that shut everyone up.

"Jisung can come with us," Minji declared, placing a hand on Siyeon's shoulder before she could oppose. "The Seer hasn't said anything to placate Jisung's determination, which can only be interpreted positively. We'll need his help."

Jisung turned to his friend, eyes wide open, resting his hands on Chan's shoulders. "Does this mean I'll find him?" he asked, with such heartbreaking hopefulness that Chan had to look away from him.

"I can't tell you, Jisung," he mumbled. The human let go, and heaved a deep sigh. Despite the incertitude of the situation, Minji was right - if Chan wasn't against him going to the dream realm, leaving aside what it'd mean for Jisung's self, that he'd lose something such as his mortality, then there was hope. Losing that part of himself meant nothing when he could be getting what he most longed for, what he most missed with all his heart.

"Are you really sure you want to come?" the pink haired addressed Jisung. "Regardless of the consequences?"

"I want to," he nodded, without a doubt in mind. He had never been as sure of something in his life.

Minji hummed, briefly tapping her lips, contemplative. "I'm giving you three days. Three days to find Minho. Not a second more, not a second less. If that time exceeds, that could potentially be dangerous for you." Jisung gulped, but dared not to interrupt the demon. "If you don't succeed on finding him, I'm getting you out of there, and Bora and I will continue."

"Seems fair," he mumbled.

"It's also worth mentioning that time in the dream realm is unpredictable, as everything else that happens there; time could pass slower or faster than it does here, change that pace whenever it pleases."

Jisung bit back an ironic remark, and patiently waited for Minji to finish. It didn't seem like she was bringing that up to scare him, get him to back down, but to let him know, in all honestly, so he could decide on his own whether to carry on or not. But no matter what she said, the decision was already made.

"Did you bring Minho's dreamcatcher with you?" Jisung was caught off guard when she pointed at his cross bag. He nodded, and took the box out to place it on the counter. Minji lifted the lid and stared at the mint-colored dreamcatcher for a couple of seconds before she plucked one of the feathers from its string attached to the hoop. Jisung gasped, taken aback, but the demon hurried to explain before he could protest. "This will act as a protection charm," Minji took his wrist and tied the string with the feather around it. It tickled, but the feeling was pleasant.

"You'll be mostly okay there, maybe just seen as a being that doesn't belong in the realm, but better safe than sorry," Bora added. "There's also the probability that we get separated at some point, so whatever may happen, that will protect you."

With a shaky intake of breath, Jisung nodded. The uncertainty of the adventure that was about to unfold was making him tense, jittery, but it did settle down his nerves that, even if Chan refused to reveal such information, it'd be possible that he'll find Minho. That was all he needed.

"So, without further ado, let's get to it," Minji clapped her hands, turned around and opened the door behind the counter. Chan rested a hand on Jisung's shoulder and gently pushed him forward, motioning him to follow after them.

Jisung had never been to that part of the store before. He had seen Siyeon and Minho come and go from that door plenty of times, and even if he had wondered what existed behind it, in that moment he concentrated on walking, trailing behind Siyeon. He did notice, however, how creaky the wooden floor was, how narrow were the stairs they took, how shadowy the rest of the building was. Although that was his first time exploring the place beyond the front of the store, he could tell it usually didn't feel as gloomy as how it did now. As if _InSomnia_ mirrored its residents' mood.

He was led to a bedroom, curtains tightly drawn and faintly illuminated by the orangey light of an old-fashioned lamp. Handong gestured for him to lie down on the pristine white bed. Jisung took his shoes off to set them down next to the bed, along with his bag. While the Witch explained something to him, his eyes drifted to Siyeon - the Siren mouthed a silent _take care_ , lips red with how much she had been biting them.

Then, preparations done, Jisung closed his eyes, and despite how rapidly his heart was beating, everything was soon swallowed up by darkness, cradled in the arms of Sleep.


	2. endless night

Jisung's eyes fluttered open slowly, drowsily.

For a few moments, he was disoriented. The sunshine glared directly on his face, making him groan and squint at such brightness, deciding to lie on his side to shield himself from it. With his cheek resting on the floor, numbingly cold, Jisung observed his surroundings with half-opened eyes. The light inside that place was so bright he could see little particles of dust floating, dancing like tiny golden creatures. Past that enthralling sight, he saw a row of imposing columns, white like cream, with strange symbols engraved in their shafts creating curious designs. He didn’t recognize where he was, but it was somewhere out of a fantasy book.

Jisung sat up, clutching his head when it started to throb. He felt dizzy, wobbly, nauseated.

He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose with shaky hands. Ignoring the feeble condition of his body, he tried to stand up. His trembling legs refused to cooperate with him the first few tries, feeling needles pricking his skin as if they had fallen asleep. He crawled to the closest column, using it as support to get up and as he waited for his breathing to even out, Jisung took his time to further observe the place he had materialized in. It seemed to be a big, spacious room with plenty of light coming from several windows in three of its walls. On one side, to his right, there were two doors - of equal breadth, imposing, one next to the other presiding over the back of the room. A few steps in front of them, a red carpet stained with muddy footprints that stretched all the way to the front, where a throne stood, enclosed by unlit, silver candelabras of a similar height. Pointed arch windows opened to a daylight sky, clear and blinding, illuminating the gold material of the throne and making it seem like sparks of a fire about to ignite.

Snapping out of his amazement, Jisung became aware of a little fact that his mind had been too dazed to remember.

He was in the dream realm. 

He had come here to find Minho.

Belatedly, he also realized he was alone, when he wasn't supposed to - Minji and Bora were nowhere in sight, the throne room too silent to even hint of their presence. It made Jisung worry, but with a quick glance at the mint feather gently tickling the inside of his wrist, his nerves settled down a little bit.

All he could do now was... explore.

The throne room, despite how appealing it looked with the glimmer of gold and silver details around the space on the base of columns, the frames of windows, the motifs on the walls, was visibly empty save for Jisung. It felt pointless to stay there any longer, where he clearly wasn't going to find a single clue.

But when he tried to move, his legs were still so shaky, so unstable, he almost tumbled to the ground. The hasty movement made him gag, break out in a cold sweat. His stomach felt like it had caught on fire, and to top it all, his head still felt heavy, throbbing, and a pressure had formed in his temples.

Was that the way his body was telling him he didn't belong there?

Nonetheless, Jisung persevered. Using the columns as support once again, he made his way to the back of the room, taking small steps until his legs stopped violently trembling like leaves. The pair of doors, identical as they were, didn't have anything special in them to make Jisung's decision easier, so he just went for the one closer to him - the right door. It gave in when he cautiously pushed it open; it seemingly weighed nothing despite how big the door looked.

Standing in front of the bottomless darkness the door had revealed, Jisung was rooted to the spot. He was about to turn around to try the other route when a sudden gust of wind pushed him from behind and he tripped, falling with a yelp. Head spinning and vision blurry, he helplessly watched as the door closed, trapping him in the pitch-black room; like the deepest part of the ocean, where light couldn't reach with its calming warmth and coldness seeped deep into his veins, his bones. A shiver travelled down his spine. Jisung frantically looked around left and right, but all he could see was continuous black, a suffocating darkness that held him captive in its claws. He felt the gaze of countless of eyes fixed on his shaking form, hidden in the privacy of the surrounding nothingness.

Jisung shut his eyes tight, feeling bile in his throat that he swallowed down.

When he opened them, a broken cry fell from his lips - not far from where he was kneeling, a faint glow lit up a path that, if he squinted, he could see led to another door. Jisung scrambled to get up, but with no means of support in the proximity when his legs failed him, his knees harshly hit the ground in his fall. The second try, he was more careful, and he was able to stand without tumbling the following moment; however, when he started walking, he grimaced at the pain that shot up his legs, making him hobble and slowing his pace. That was sure to leave a bruise.

The walk to the other side seemed to stretch further the longer he walked, to his dismay. What could have been seconds turned into minutes, as if the darkness didn't want to leave his side and it was pushing him back every time, entrapping him in an endless loop Jisung persisted in escaping.

He felt nearly breathless when he finally reached the center of light. It took him a moment for his eyes to get used to the new brightness, and when they gained focus again, Jisung noticed a couple of details that had gone unseen from the previous distance. The obsidian floor, similar to the one in the throne room, had some type of flower with royal-blue colored petals scattered around, that rustled under his sock-clad feet. At either side of the illuminated passageway, he detected countless of shiny, black suits of armour, extending beyond the rays of light and blending into the dark background. The sensation of being watched heightened, and Jisung would have broken into a run if his knees hadn't started to shake, again. It was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain a steady pace when his body didn't seem to cooperate; what his mind wanted and what his physique could handle didn't work together.

At last, he reached the other side. He heaved a deep sigh, resting his head on the wooden door for a second, and then he pushed it open.

Jisung gasped in shock - he was back in the throne room. But the place he had left moments ago, or so he thought, was now destroyed, a ghost of the grandeur it held before. A battle had seemed to happen, and all it left were the remnants - grime, broken glass shards, shattered columns. The room reeked of smoke, hinting a fire that had long since extinguished, that left Jisung in a coughing fit, the acrid smell sticking to his throat. Blinking back the tears that had sprung to his eyes, he looked out the windows to see a sunset sky, angry clouds with blinding lightning, and to his surprise, what appeared to be a burning sun, massive flames licking its surface with rage, and a purple moon, of a bigger size and unnatural glow. As weird as that sight was (quite hair-rising, if he was being honest) Jisung's thoughts focused on how much time had passed, how much time he had lost in the pitch-black, never-ending room. And only to be back where he had started!

Groaning out loud, Jisung balled his hand into a fist and punched the door; the wood cracked and several splinters pierced his skin, yet the irritation he felt overpowered the pain.

Even so, losing his temper wasn't going to help anyone. He had to think quicker, find a new solution, another route to follow. Thus, he chose to try the left door. This one required a little bit more of strength to open, and contrary to the other, it revealed a narrow aisle, cream-colored, emulating the same golden details he had seen in the throne room walls. He entered the space in his own accord, and jumped when he heard the door click shut behind him. As much as he would have appreciated a better lit place, at least he could see where he stepped. However, he soon noticed the numerous passages left and right of the stretching corridor he was in, reminding Jisung of a maze. He had plenty of options to choose from, yet he continued forward, looking around for anything that'd spark his interest. Every passage was the spitting image of the other, stretching far until it was too shadowy too discern anything.

Jisung brought his hands to his head when it started to painfully throb. The ache wasn't as strong as what he had woken up to, but enough to make him close his eyes for a short moment. 

When he opened them, he caught a faint glow from the corner of his eye, and he snapped his head to the side, ignoring the sudden pang that shot through his skull and the consequent nausea. Jisung turned to his right to follow the enticing light. At the end of the passage he had entered he found the source of his interest - a gem of sparkling lilac shades, floating over a thick cloud of smoke. It was beautiful, catching what little light there was and tinting the space with plum hues. 

Jisung wanted it so badly. 

He reached out with a hand, wide-open eyes centered on the precious gem. Mere centimeters from the shiny object, it shattered, exploded, with such raw power that it knocked Jisung to the ground. Despite falling on his rear, his head got the worst hit - he was dizzy, and even though he had closed his eyes from the impact, everything was spinning round. His stomach protested, felt the urge to throw up. His legs ached, burned from all the exertion he had put them through. His ears were still ringing, a high-pitched scream engraved in his mind.

He felt the air leave his lungs when he opened his eyes to a vast, starry night sky, so eerily ethereal, Jisung could have stared at it for eternity even if it would mean being consumed by his pain. So magnificent, it reminded him of a pair of dark eyes, always sparkling, full of life and warmth...

Jisung shook his head, sitting up so fast he felt his neck creak. He couldn't get distracted!

Looking around, he noticed the distinct change of scenery. The moonlight shone bright enough that although it was nighttime, he could see perfectly. Wherever he had appeared in was an immense and extensive even land with the silhouette of snowy mountains far in the distance. He was surrounded by a thick fog of a purplish color, strangely; when it got too close to his body, it made his hair stand on end, the feeling too uncomfortable as it made his skin clammy. Standing up was an easier feat than the previous times, though his legs still shook with the effort it took to stay upright. But he realized, with a triumphant smile, that he could walk a little faster than before. Nonetheless, the problem was _where_ to head to, when everywhere he looked had nothing but fog, a dense cloud that had started to envelop him, clinging to Jisung like it didn't want him to ever leave. 

He kept moving, urgently scanning all around for even the slightest sign that'd help him escape this unending, bare landscape. He felt the fog crawl up his legs, holding onto him, slowing him down. It was soon going to reach his hands, and he couldn't imagine what would happen if it swallowed him whole, covered his entire form and trapped him under its suffocating density. But just as he turned his head to the left, steam tickling the palm of his hand, he caught the sight of a massive tree, a hot pink gleam coming from its trunk, and Jisung rushed to it. The closer he got to the tree, the clearer the view was, until he discerned the light was coming from an opening on the trunk, puffs of colored smoke spreading from the center.

Jisung didn't have time to think - when he got close enough, he felt an unyielding force grab his wrists and pull him inside the tree.

His body tumbled, straight into the opening, and he rolled, descending down, down a hole, scratched his arms and legs, and felt his chest tighten, contract, having trouble to properly breath from the shock. It felt like ages until the world ceased to spin and Jisung found himself with a mouthful of grass.

With a groan, Jisung raised his head and coughed and sputtered dirt; it left his mouth with a nasty aftertaste, he noticed with a grimace. The setting sun was just above the horizon, the strong rays blinding him for a few seconds until he stood up and turned around, wobbling a little with the movement. The scenery had changed again - he was in the middle of a plain, surrounded by muted green, bleak olive and pale brown colors. It felt oddly peaceful, too quiet, the air stuffy and carrying the smell of dry leaves; if he had to compare it to something, it'd be the looming seconds before a disaster ensued. What was about to happen, Jisung wasn't sure, but the longer those seconds seemed to stretch, the more anguished he became. 

It was the faint sound of wood cracking that made Jisung jump, caught off guard. When he turned around, he watched with eyes wide open as fire rapidly spread and advanced in his direction, the blazing heat of the flames reaching out to him like little fiery creatures dancing around his form, mockingly, chanting about his impending fate.

Jisung bolted out. He didn't even have time to marvel at the regained strength in his legs, for the fire only seemed to gain intensity as the seconds went by, approaching him at alarming speeds. Soon enough, dark smoke clouded his sight, obscuring everything nearby, leaving him to blindly run ahead and trust his instinct would lead him to safety. With a hand covering his mouth to prevent a coughing fit, the smoke still made Jisung get teary-eyed, his vision blurry, and his head dizzy. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breath, maintain a steady pace to escape from the threatening fire; the flames were getting bigger, bolder, playing with the hairs on the back of his neck with its searing ferocity.

He turned his head back, startled to see how dangerously close the fire was getting to his heels. But the moment he looked upfront again, his foot got caught in something in the ground and Jisung fell with a yelp.

His hands managed to soften the impact, in time to avoid injuring his face, but his shins hit an edged surface that made Jisung gasp, tears welling up in his closed eyes. Short of breath from all that running, he was quick to notice how clean the air was, no trace of the previous smoke that was surrounding him in the plain no more than a second ago. The sudden changes of location were beginning to annoy him.

Upon opening his eyes, Jisung was surprised to find a familiar sight for a change. Despite the dark setting of the first time he had come across this place, the stairs were still as recognizable in what seemed to be late afternoon light - he remembered running up those same stairs that never seemed to end in one of Minho's nightmares. The wood creaked under his weight as he stood up, a hand moving up to support himself on the wall next to him when he wobbled backwards. But as he started to climb the stairs and neared the end, there was something... buzzing at the back of his mind. A forgotten memory, a warning, maybe. He was so distracted trying to figure out what was he failing to fully grasp that he missed the last step and tripped, letting out a loud swear from the shock.

"Jisung!?" a voice shouted from the bottom of the endless stairs. It was too dark to even see where they ended, but the voice had sure come from that direction. It took him a second to recognize its owner, until he remembered he hadn't come to the dream realm alone; it must had been Minji, by the clear but stern tone of the voice.

"Up here!" he replied. When he raised his head, however, Jisung came to a halt. He was sure he had been here before, in one of his earliest nightmares; he recognized the narrow hallway, the antiquated wallpaper and the variety of frames on the walls. The first time it had been gloomy and dim-lighted, and now it looked softer, brighter, but still rung a bell in his mind. Like he had seen this place in this same setting before, strangely enough, even though the memory was quite blurry in his mind.

Jisung didn't wait for the two Nightmares to catch up to him and he marched forward, cautiously.

The hallway was dead quiet save for his muffled steps and the increasingly rapid beating of his heart. He couldn't exactly tell why it was giving him a feeling of déjà vu. But as he ventured further, and his frown grew deeper, little fragments of lost recollections started to piece back together in his mind - joyous laughter and playful banter echoing down that hallway, gentle and fleeting brushes of hands, the shortness of breath as he ran, dodging tickles and giving them in return.

Jisung reached the point where he remembered he had turned right in his nightmare, yet he continued straight ahead, following the vague mental image those fragments had created, a puzzle close to being completed the more time he spent there. The light started to dim, the hallway becoming darker, sinister; Jisung tuned out the frantic calls of his name as his mind turned a jumbled mess of thoughts - the closer he got to the end, the more anxious he grew, his pace getting faster and faster until he took off running.

He stopped right in his tracks once he reached the end, out of breath, before a slightly ajar door. 

He could feel it in the air, in the way it made his hair stand on end. 

It hadn't been a coincidence that his forgotten memories had found their way back to his mind, triggered by familiar sights the more time he spent in this strange, bone-chilling building.

Jisung raised a shaky hand and pushed the door open, holding his breath. 

He only got to see the unconscious boy with soft, honey locks, trapped in eerily glowing cobweb, before his sight wavered, growing drowsy, drained, until his eyes tapped shut and blackness swallowed him whole.

☾ °☆

When Jisung woke up he was blinded by a beam of light directly hitting his face, closing his eyes immediately after. He groaned, mentally cursing himself when the action made his dry throat hurt. A pressure had settled in his temples and he whimpered, rolling to his side, throwing an arm over his head. This was the kind of headache he got whenever he slept in and got up way too late, messing up his sleep schedule.

The mattress squeaked under his weight when he moved, and the sweet smell of cinnamon and honey coming from the pillow his head was resting on made him scrunch his nose. Belatedly, he caught a hint of mint hidden under that cloying scent, and Jisung heaved a delighted sigh, burrowing his face on the soft fabric of the pillow case.

Despite the sluggish state of his mind, feeling awake yet too tired to try to function, the sound of nearing footsteps prompted his eyes to open again. 

Standing in the hallway just in front of the open door to the room Jisung was in, Minho stared at him with eyes wide open. The basket with dirty laundry he was carrying fell from his hands with a dull thump, yet he remained still, holding eye contact, not even daring to blink. Jisung's sleepy mind took a second too long to realize _who_ he was staring at, but when it caught up, his surprised expression mirrored the demon's.

Minho looked pale, his face thinner, even his arms too. He looked tired, restless. But his eyes (oh, how he adored those eyes) were still as full of life as ever, and that was all Jisung needed to know, feeling bliss begin to bloom in his heart, calm his unease, the hint of a pleased smile forming on his lips.

However, when Minho's shock faded and was replaced with a scowl, Jisung felt a pang in his chest, confusion clouding his mind. He sat up, clutching the hem of his creased shirt.

"What the Hell were you thinking!"

Jisung flinched at the unexpected harsh tone.

"Did you even stop to think for a single damn second? How fucking reckless that was?"

Minho stood there on the threshold, hands balled into fists and posture tense, and even with all the distance that separated them, Jisung still felt how the demon towered over him. His mind might had been playing tricks, distorting reality to resemble the dreadful vision of his nightmares, but it felt like Minho's hands had turned into beast claws pointing at him, sharp teeth showing in a menacing snarl, screaming danger, do not come closer, stay away.

He gulped and opened his mouth to reply, to defend himself, to explain, to yell at him, everything he wanted to say; but the other beat him to it.

"Do you have so little sense of self-preservation? Is it so hard to understand that you're only a mere human?"

 _That you're different from us, from me_. 

Jisung closed his eyes, tightly, shielding himself from the biting downpour that he felt falling over his head, down his face, his back, bringing goosebumps to his skin, numbing his senses until the dagger piercing his chest turned into an ache he barely felt. Exhaling a shaky breath, when he finally decided to open his eyes again it was to a deserted hallway. The confusion weighed heavy on his shoulders.

It all happened too quick, too sudden, it felt like his mind still hadn't caught up with whatever had just taken place.

The silence that now reigned over the room was suffocating; holding its breath, perplexed at the startling outcome, too. 

The mattress' squeak when he shifted to sit on the edge was annoyingly loud, and when Jisung planted his feet on the floor he hardly shuddered at the sudden chill that traveled up his legs. He found his shoes placed in the same spot he had last left them, and unhurriedly slipped his feet in and tied the laces in a double knot. And then, he caught sight of the array of scrapes and bruises on his skin, from his knees to his shins, on his arms, his hands, too, where he had band-aids covering most of his fingers.

It took Jisung a beat too long to remember where he had been before he woke up in that room, what he had been through. It still surprised him, because even though the pain had felt real, as it had in all his dreams, it was the first time he had woken up with _actual_ wounds, and not the vague feeling of that pain. 

Alongside his still drowsy self, all the questions that had popped up in his mind were making him feel adrift, not grounded, somewhere between consciousness and lethargy. Like he was there, but not quite yet, at the same time.

Heaving a long, tired sigh, Jisung stood up, wincing at the stiffness on his legs. He didn't see any point in staying in that room any longer - his body was fine, regardless of the bruises and marks and whatever else he had where his eyes couldn't reach, and as the seconds ticked by, the more he started to feel like a stranger there. 

That part of the building was still unknown to him, yet he didn't let himself marvel at the ornaments and other curious details on his way down the narrow stairs, concentrated on finding the door that led to the store as it was the only exit he was aware of. Once he located it, though, Jisung was momentarily distracted by a bizarre sight. There was another collection of wall clocks, probably more eccentric than those in the store, and Jisung stopped to watch how the hands spun, each clock in a different direction and tempo, until they all halted at once seemingly pointing somewhere to Jisung's left. Somewhere at the other side to where he was initially heading.

Jisung was torn between ignoring that clear indication and going home, as he had planned to do, or following it and satisfying his growing curiosity, despite how little he wanted to be there in that moment.

No matter how much he weighed his options, in the end, he knew he would regret if he didn't go, so he turned to his left and marched straight ahead to the end of the hallway, to the only room with the door wide open and the pleasant fragrance inviting him in.

"Siyeon," Jisung's voice sounded croaky, and left an itchy feeling in his throat that made him cough. It felt like he hadn't spoken in days.

The Siren chuckled softly, and patted the green-colored armchair next to the sofa she was sitting on. Jisung nodded, took a seat, and accepted the steaming cup she offered him; it was chamomile tea, sweetened with honey and a touch of lemon, so perfectly balanced out that Jisung drank it all in one go. 

While Siyeon refilled his cup, humming a song under her breath, Jisung sank back into his seat as his eyes roamed the room. It wasn't too big, he noticed, and there was hardly any space unoccupied by either furniture or plants or other weird decorations, but it felt lived-in, warm and cozy. An entire wall covered in shelves was dedicated to an impressive assortment of books that looked old and dusty, but still radiated incalculable power. Dry herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling, like a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes. There were baskets with heaps of flowers, too; lavender, baby breath, feverfew daisies. Mismatched sofas with equally colorful pillows. Candles and glass jars with fine powders, twigs and crystals on antique cabinets, even on the coffee table alongside the tea set. Dangling charms on the walls, animals skulls, elaborated tapestries, and a big, sumptuous dreamcatcher with a rainbow of colors in its feathers. Everything Jisung could have ever imagined to find there, but still astounding, quite overwhelming, yet a calming sight, strangely so. He wasn't sure what to make of that feeling - tingling in his fingertips, the back of his neck, his cheeks - and therefore, he choose to shrug it off for the time being.

After taking a sip of his newly served tea, this time more leisurely, Jisung cleared his throat.

"How long have I've been asleep for?" he asked, voice low. The warm beverage had helped soothe his sore throat, but it was still a little uncomfortable to talk.

"Three days."

Jisung coughed and sputtered, caught off guard, and dabbed the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand.

"No wonder it felt like I had the longest nap in my life."

Siyeon laughed, eyes sparkling with mirth.

"You were technically awake for three whole days, so your body had to compensate for that," she explained. His eyes opened wide, and although it made sense, it still left many questions unanswered - about the dream realm, about the abrupt end of his adventure, about himself even.

"W-what happened?"

The Siren's expression turned more earnest, and she took a long, unhurried sip of her tea, before beginning the awaited explanation.

Jisung had successfully managed to find Minho, just as he suspected, merely seconds before his time limit was up and Handong got him out of the dream realm with her magic. Prior to him passing out, he had guided the other two Nightmares through the building and to where Minho was held captive, so it was all thanks to Jisung that they had found him.

Back at home, safe and sound, Minho was able to recount what happened - the night he disappeared he had visited Jisung in his dreams, as per usual, and they had been playing tag in that same building, running down its hallways. Venturing further inside than they had ever done in a previous dream, all of a sudden they were attacked by creature from the lower part of the realm, catching them in its web-trap.

That Jisung knew, remembered at least once his memories returned to him. What he wasn't aware of, however, is what Siyeon continued to explain: according to Handong, and based on Minho's words, while the demon had been there in his dream physically (as all Nightmares did when entering the dream realm), Jisung was not. He had been dreaming, and thus, only his subconscious had been present. As a result, then, Jisung couldn't dream from then on.

Which also explained why his skin was bruised and scraped, because this time, contrary to his dreams, his corporeal body had been in the realm.

Siyeon took another sip of her now lukewarm tea, allowing Jisung as much time as he needed to take it all in.

"What will happen to me now?" Jisung asked next, playing with the feather still tied to his wrist. The Siren tilted her head to the side. "You said, going to the dream realm would mean I'd lose something, my mortality, then what am I? I don't feel any different."

"You're still human, just not mortal, anymore. If it makes it easier to understand, it's like your body is frozen in time, forever looking like that," she gestured to him with a hand, placing her tea cup on the table with the other. "Unless caused by an external force, like a disease, you won't die. But that's the only thing that's changed for you. No special powers gained or anything like that."

Jisung nodded, and distractingly mumbled: "Sounds boring."

Siyeon chuckled, but it didn't sound like she had found his remark funny.

"Hey, Jisung," the Siren called, softly, tenderly, and the boy looked at her with raised eyebrows and a small, inquiring smile. "What you did was really brave. I'm proud of you."  
Jisung's eyes went impossibly wide, slowly filling with tears, utterly surprised by her confession. Her words that had sounded so genuine, so heartfelt, that made his hands shake and had felt like a warm blanket carefully enveloping his heart. But her eyes looked so sorry, so sympathetic, that it made him look away, for they said more than her words did, and he didn't want to hear any more.

He heard her sigh, and for a few minutes, the conversation ceased. The boy gently thumbed at the cross-stitch design embroidered in one of the pillows on the armchair, recreating an under the sea landscape with beautiful shades of blue and green, and gold thread to highlight the shells and sand. It served as a good distraction until the Siren spoke again.

"Say, Jisung," the boy nodded to indicate he was listening. "Did I ever tell you how one becomes a Nightmare?"

" _Becomes_ a Nightmare?" he repeated, puzzled. No one had ever told him anything on that matter, and even though he didn't give it much thought, he presumed Nightmares just... existed. Or were created by a higher being or something like that.

"Humans that are wrongly cursed with a Nightmare and driven to madness by the sleep deprivation, ultimately leading to their deaths, their souls are given a second chance in life and they're turned into Nightmares themselves. Immortal demons looking like the spitting image of their past life selves, but with no recollection of said life save for why and how they died."

Jisung stood up rather abruptly, cutting Siyeon off when she opened her mouth to add something else to her speech. His hands were tightly balled into fists at his sides.

"I-I think I should go home," he stuttered, hoping he didn't sound rude. But Siyeon understood, and she nodded with a friendly smile.

"Oh, Jisung, wait," she exclaimed, standing up too, walking to one of the nearest cabinets and opening one of the top drawers. "Handong prepared this for you," she turned around, holding a vial containing a deep green liquid inside which Jisung accepted when it was handed to him. "It'll help you sleep tonight so you can easily go back to a normal sleep schedule."

He uttered a barely audible ' _thank you noona_ ', bowed, and left. Checking the time in the wall clocks before he exited the store Jisung realized it was around dinner time, but despite how long he had gone without eating anything (had he really spent six whole days without having a single meal?) he wasn't hungry; there was an uncomfortable feeling sitting in his stomach, a weird sensation he couldn't name, yet kept his mind elsewhere until he reached his dorm.

After a much needed long shower and a change of clothes, Jisung drank the potion Handong had prepared for him (he was extremely glad his stomach was empty because damn, that was disgusting).

And with no energy to do anything else, the boy laid in his bed and lost himself in the sea of his thoughts.

First of all was the thing he hadn't been able to fully assimilate yet - the no-aging aspect, his immortality, if he could even call it that. He felt like himself, though still a little out of it, and with how recent it was it's not like it would affect him now. But then, what about the future? In a few years, when people around him begin to change but he remains the same, a step behind, with no other choice but to watch them grow and, eventually, fade.

Jisung shook his head, grabbing one of his plushies to hug tightly to his chest.

It was inevitable to wonder about the forthcoming, about something that was so unfamiliar to him that he wasn't sure how to approach. A pill he didn't know how to swallow but had to, sooner or later. But for the time being, he decided to push that matter aside.

That, however, brought into focus another question - what Siyeon had explained about Nightmares. If Minho hadn't appeared before Jisung, revealing not only who he was but helping him realize why was he cursed, he would have suffered the same fate as theirs, turning into a Nightmare himself and forgetting all of his most important memories. If he had turned into a demon, would his family and friends have remembered him? Mourned for him? Oblivious of his new life, existing as a supernatural creature they hadn't heard of before.

While he had been fortunate with the general outcome of the situation, Minho hadn't. From his appearance alone he looked around Jisung's age, maybe a couple of years older. Which meant that Minho had become a Nightmare so young, so early on his life, just because of a unfairly casted curse. 

Minho had been the key figure to save Jisung from that same end; however, he had also been the reason why he ended in a similar yet so distinct condition - the promise of a forever, but without having to start all over again. Not a blank canvas to fill, but an already started sketchbook with infinite pages to draw in.

Even if Jisung, to a certain point, could imagine why he reacted like that, it still didn't justify him lashing out so harshly.

Why was it so bad, if it solved the biggest draw back that stopped a possible relationship between the two of them? When Jisung wouldn't age from now on, just like Minho himself. When they wouldn't need to step back to avoid future sorrow, replaying the bittersweet memories and wondering what could have happened if they had allowed themselves just a little taste. When they could have it all, now.

With that last thought in mind, feeling sleep softly knocking on his door, Jisung turned off the lights and drifted off to dreamland.

☾ °☆

Jisung woke up the next day with a fresher mind and some of his usual energy recovered. He stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes, silent, thoughtful, listening to the lively chirping of birds outside his window.

He had dreamt, after so many nights.

While the news delighted him, it still baffled him, for his dream had been so plain, so boring, so _lonely_ , it even woke him up. 

(His growling stomach, too, as it seemed sleep had helped him get his appetite back. He deserved a big, complete breakfast, no matter how much they charged him). 

When he was about to check if it was a reasonable time to go out to the nearest café, realization hit him like a train - he had forgotten his phone (and wallet, too, if that wasn't enough already) at _InSomnia_.

Jisung groaned out loud, rolling his eyes so hard it hurt. Despite how little he wanted to go back, _that_ soon at least, he had to; he probably had countless of texts after a whole week... out. But he hoped Chan had told his friends some excuse for why he disappeared for so long, they didn't need to worry when he had all under control. Kinda. 

Getting out of bed took him a while, kicking his blanket back and forth, tossing and turning, weighing the pros and cons of his visit to _InSomnia_ with furrowed brows and a chokehold on his plushie; he needed his phone, that's for sure, but what was holding him back was not knowing who would he find in the store - Siyeon was normally behind the counter, attending to customers, but Minho tended to be there most of the time, too. Whether or not the demon popped up there was usually a cup of tea waiting for him (sometimes accompanied by a delicious snack), courtesy of the Siren, and the hopeful prospect of a free drink and food really pushed Jisung to get up and start getting ready.

The day wasn't as hot as he had expected even though it was around mid-morning, considering how high the sun was in the sky, so the way to _InSomnia_ was actually an enjoyable walk. He even took a detour through a nearby park to marvel at the vibrant green of nature all around the area, the burble of water from the stone fountain and the buzz of bumblebees flying from flower to flower. It wasn't until he saw that sight that he realized how much he had missed the real world, after the never-ending time he spent in the mess that was the dream realm. Even more chaotic and bizarre than his own dreams (made up by his mind or created by a Nightmare, he couldn't take all the credit).

At last, Jisung reached the store. The boy stood outside for a couple of seconds, glaring at the door like it had personally offended him; it was the other way around, honestly, as he took notice of the very obvious dent from his tantrum days ago. As long as no one mentioned it he would keep quiet, pretend it hadn't been him.

He breathed in, breathed out, gathered his courage and pushed the door open like he had just gotten there.

"Good morning, Jisung."

Jisung almost tripped over a book on the floor he didn't see. He quickly got a hold of himself and stood straight, feeling his shoulders tense up as he walked up to the back of the store, deliberately avoiding looking at the demon. His eyes, instead, focused on the porcelain cup and plate full of chocolate-covered churros on the counter that made his stomach growl, and prompted him to sit on his stool without thinking of anything else than this mouth-watering feast. It took Jisung a second glance at the food to realize he had been bribed, but it was too late already.

"You left your stuff here," Minho remarked, opening one of the drawers on the counter and taking out Jisung's cross bag and phone. 

"I was aware of that," muttered the boy, but the demon paid him no mind.

"Your phone was dead so I bought a charger," Jisung reached out for his phone before he stopped talking, and was stunned to find it was indeed fully charged. That was unexpected.

Jisung, then, proceeded to check his notifications, scroll through his messages without actually replying just to have something to do other than facing Minho, which made the situation much more... awkward. Avoiding a confrontation wasn't going to solve anything, but the anxiety and fear deeply rooted in his heart made it hard to be the one to speak up first.

Minho sighed quietly, an exhale of air that softly caressed Jisung's cheek and made his fingertips tingle.

"I'm sorry about yesterday, Sung. It was wrong of me to react so harshly, that wasn't fair. The last thing that I wanted was to hurt you, but I still did, and I realized my mistake too late," Jisung nodded, a quick movement of his head, and turned to look the demon in the eye when he sensed there was more he had to say. "It's just-" Minho pinched the bridge of his nose before he looked back at Jisung with eyes opened wide and full of emotion - vulnerability, sincerity, affection, too - that took him aback. "I can't stop feeling like this is all my fault, that I ruined your life, your future."

Jisung started to shake his head, prepared to refute that nonsense because no, like Hell it had been Minho's fault when Jisung had made the choice because _he wanted to_ , not because he had felt compelled to; but the demon continued talking:

"What are you going to tell your parents, your friends, when they notice you don't age?" 

The boy drew in a breath, letting this treasured feeling he had guarded for so long form in his lips and shape into words.

"That I fell in love with a stupid demon and I gave up on a big part of my life to save his sorry ass."

For the first time ever since they met, he left Minho rendered speechless, gaping like a fish out of the water trying to form a coherent sentence, a proper response to the sudden confession. Jisung, ignoring the intense warmth he felt in his cheeks, deemed it a good time to address (another) important matter.

"You really need to stop showing your concern through anger, Minho," the aforementioned seemed to snap out of it, lowering his eyes and nodding to indicate he agreed. Jisung heaved a sigh, cracking a tiny smile as he presented his hand, palm up, to the demon. Minho chuckled softly, lovingly, placing his hand on top so cautiously; like a feather swept away by the wind, landing with exceptional gentleness, as if it was meant to be there. "And on that matter, you should be more honest about your feelings, too."

Minho nodded again, thoughtful, looking at him so intensely it made his hair stand on end. Not in a bad way, however, but it looked like the demon had something to say, something that seemed rather important by the seriousness in his eyes, and Jisung couldn't imagine what it was.

"What-"

"I love you too."

Jisung wasn't prepared for that.

He choked on his spit, coughing into his free hand as Minho soothingly rubbed his back and giggled, a sound so clear and melodious that Jisung couldn't stay mad for being laughed at, despite his embarrassment. He was pleased (endearingly so, if he was being honest) to find the demon's cheeks painted a bright red that spread to the tip of his ears. That was a lovely sight.

This time, after having eluded the topic for so long (unwillingly or not, but both of them were at fault for that) Jisung took a deep breath, tightened the hold in their entwined hands, and with the reassurance of Minho's words playing in his mind over and over, like the calming melody of the music box he always heard in the store, he spoke again.

"Does that mean- does that mean we're dating, now?" he bit his bottom lip, watching the other closely for his reaction. "Because I'd like that," the boy added, timidly but determined. If he'd asked the demon to be truthful with him, he should, too.

Minho smiled - big, soft, promising - and squeezed his hand back.

"If you want to. I'm all yours."

"As I'm yours, too."

☾ °☆

"If you keep looking at your phone while walking you'll trip."

Jisung ignored his friend's advice and hit replay for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. How his phone hadn't run out of battery by now was a mystery. His loud cackle made a few passers-by turn their heads at their direction, and Seungmin elbowed him to tone it down; despite the little smile forming in his lips when he heard the recording of his boyfriend admitting defeat in Jisung's phone.

"This is a gem, Seungmin. A trophy worthy of a winner!" exclaimed his friend, shaking his phone in the air with the video still playing, that made the aforementioned roll his eyes at Jisung's antics.

It wasn't as dramatic as he claimed it to be. Starting the new semester, Jisung had gathered all his friends together in his dorm room (which, looking back at it, had been too small to comfortably accommodate everyone) and revealed his not so little secret - the whole quest to find his _now_ boyfriend (how exciting it was to say that!) and the price he had had to pay for that. With the help of the reliable Chan to answer their questions, his friends had nothing but a positive reaction at the news, though they were a tad bit baffled at all the implications his situation actually had.

A week later - that is, today - a grumpy Changbin approached Jisung and reluctantly acknowledged his loss in this so-called 'competition' his hyung made up himself, because, in his words: he wouldn't be able to top what Jisung did for love.

(It took a lot of convincing and pouting for him to agree to be recorded, and Jisung swore to treasure the video forever).

"Wait, what if he's plotting a revenge now," Jisung turned to Seungmin, wide-eyed, holding onto his arm with mock concern.

"I'll keep an eye on him in case he attempts to sabotage you," replied his friend, lightly flicking Jisung on the forehead with his middle finger.

"Thank you, dearest friend!" laughed the boy, finally pocketing his phone in his jeans. But when he noticed Seungmin staring at him, lost in thought, Jisung halted on his steps. "What is it, Min?"

Seungmin stopped walking and turned to face him, hesitating for a brief moment.

"Will you still be my friend?" he asked in a murmur, but realizing how low his voice had sounded, he cleared his throat and repeated: "Will you still be my friend, even when I'm old and wrinkly?"

It was unusual for Seungmin to show his more vulnerable side. His friend who had always been so sharp-witted and carried himself with impressive confidence; but with those he trusted, allowed himself to show his true colors, his deepest thoughts, who Seungmin really was and not the character he played to be. 

Jisung would forever be grateful for being his friend.

"Of course," he replied, softly, throwing an arm around Seungmin's shoulders and resuming their walk. "Who else would tolerate cranky grandpa Seungmin?"

"Have some faith in Changbin," he snorted, taking Jisung's hand and giving it a squeeze, before he shook it off his shoulder.

Jisung cackled, throwing his head back, and didn't say anything else when Seungmin suddenly changed topics.

"How's work going, by the way? Are they still not paying you?"

 _Ah, right, that_ \- Jisung groaned. 

He had somehow convinced Siyeon to give him a job at _InSomnia_. The final decision had actually fallen on Minji, who was the person in charge of the whole business, kind of like a leader of some sorts; but getting Siyeon to agree to pass his request to the demon took some time, and begging, and maybe pouting, too. Minji was pretty supportive about accepting Jisung as a new employee (though she had some rather strict indications to not let him touch anything magic that could potentially be dangerous. So no spell books, unfortunately).

However, after arranging a working schedule with Jisung that didn't coincide with his classes (Monday to Friday, mainly afternoons), Siyeon was very clear and adamant about one thing: he first had to pay off the damage he had inflicted on the store's entrance door. Which, okay, was fair. What he would have earned on his first days was taken from his paycheck and instead destined to repair the dent on the door. But he had been working at _InSomnia_ for two weeks, already, and it should have been more than enough money to cover that! Siyeon insisted it wasn't, that the door was _special_ and it needed _an specific restoration work_ that just happened to be quite expensive, and Jisung was sure the Siren was just fooling him at this point.

That aside, he liked the job. With how much time he had spent in _InSomnia_ before, he was quite familiar with the store - where books went, what not to touch or move from its place, what needed to be handled with careful hands, and the non-magical items that Siyeon tricked humans to buy. All he had to do was basically stock check, following the indications written in a notebook Siyeon handed him everyday. If they were low in spirit-summoning candles or potion-making ingredients, Jisung had to write that down. If the crystals didn't have swirls of glittery color dancing inside, he had to note that down. It was simple, although time-consuming. But working there had the added benefit of learning all about the stuff they sold, what they did, what they were used for, and what they _shouldn't_ be used for. If it was harmless, Siyeon even let him fiddle with it for a while.

Despite not dealing with customers like Siyeon, and occasionally Minho, Jisung also got to meet a few supernatural creatures he never thought he'd encounter in his life (or that they existed!). Even Chan had dropped by a few times, because he apparently had been friends with Handong for years and knew of _InSomnia_ and the business even before Jisung got involved with the store.

The perks of working there also included tea and snacks (which he already got when he just visited them), free rein to explore the rest of the building (that he still hadn't had the opportunity to do, unfortunately), and getting to spend time with Minho (which, well, he already did).

In all honesty it didn't even feel like a job, just Jisung doing the most tedious work they didn't want to do and then rewarding him with food. Next time he saw Minji he was going to complain.

"Whenever I ask Siyeon goes like ' _Jisungie shut your mouth_ ' and I have to obey because she's evil and uses her powers against poor, innocent me," he sighed, bringing the back of his hand to his forehead for added dramatism that made Seungmin snort.

"If only you didn't go around damaging others' property," he said with teasing sarcasm, and Jisung couldn't help the offended gasp that fell from his lips. Seungmin, noticing they had arrived to _InSomnia_ , patted his friend's shoulder. "Work hard, Sung, and fight for your right to get paid."

"See you later," he laughed, and before he pushed the door open, called for the other. "Thank you for walking me to work, Min."

Seungmin waved a hand as if to brush it off, and continued down the street.

The little bell over the door had just barely clinked that Jisung was startled at the sudden voice calling his name with urgency.

"Jisung, come here! Quickly! Check this out!" Minho motioned him to approach the counter where he had an open wooden box in front of him. The boy complied, unceremoniously dropping his backpack on the floor and leaning on his hands to peer inside. "They just arrived this morning," said the demon, grabbing a handful of shiny, diamond shapes to show him. "Dragon scales," he explained, after noticing Jisung looking at him with raised eyebrows. When the scales caught the light from the lightbulb over their heads they sparkled, ranging from a fiery red to a golden yellow.

"So pretty," muttered Jisung, touching the scales with the tip of his index finger; they were rough, almost like they could cut if he pressed harder.

"They are used as enhancers for potions, but lately they have been a hot decorative item for younger Witches' hats," Minho chuckled, letting the scales in his hand fall back into the box. Jisung hummed, picking a scale that had fallen on the counter to drop it inside before Minho closed the box.

"Do I have to place it in the potion ingredients shelf?" asked Jisung, pointing with a finger at the one closest to them. Now that he actually looked there he realized it needed some cleaning and organizing - some brown powder had been spilled all over the surface from a knocked down jar that nobody had cared to pick up, and the dried leaves were mixed with the butterfly wings of a similar color and shape which, for some concoctions, would be a major fuck up. Jisung was learning a lot!

"No need, I'll do it," smiled the demon, pushing the box aside. "Siyeon wants you to dust the wall clocks, though."

Jisung groaned, plopping down on his stool with a whiny ' _why_ ' spilling from his lips. Minho chuckled softly, carding a hand through Jisung's hair and smoothing down the strands that stuck out at the back of his head. The boy's shoulders slumped with a content sigh.

"But we can get started once she's back," he added, taking a seat next to Jisung, who quickly took a hold of the other's hand when he dropped it back to his lap. Minho squeezed his hand three times, and Jisung replied with four, biting his lip to stop himself from smiling like a fool. "How did today go?"

Jisung, then, happily recounted his morning - the stray cat that had entered campus grounds and had tried to sneakily steal students' belongings, and the guy in one of his classes that had fallen asleep mid-lesson, snored so loudly it woke him up and how not even the teacher could hold back his laugh. Just remembering that moment made him burst out laughing. There was also the incident with Hyunjin and his fries and an unconveniently placed step, but he had promised his friend not to bring it up despite how funny his dramatic shriek had been. But his favorite part of the day had been sitting together with his friends at lunch (Jeongin too! He was finally in college!) and just talking about everything and nothing, feeling safe and cozy in their little bubble.

Minho hummed, mentioning how pleased he was to hear that he was having a fun time, in that soft voice and loving tone that made Jisung's cheeks heat up, even after all the times he had been at the receiving end of that fondness the other wasn't shy on expressing.

"What did you do?" Jisung asked right back, reaching out under the counter with his free hand to grab a candy from the little tin they had. The sourness of the sweet made him grimace, eliciting a laugh from the demon.

"This old lady came in looking for a present for her granddaughter and we sold her the enchanted lamp that lights up a different color depending on your mood," he explained, and Jisung nodded with a pout. He liked that lamp. "Oh, also this Witch from next town, that had purchased regular chalk to draw symbols for an invoking exercice and it had gone... terribly wrong. As expected if you don't use the right materials," Minho shrugged. "He just came to complain about this spirit that keeps following him and playing pranks ever since, but Siyeon managed to sell him the magic chalk he needed."

"Oh damn, fun stuff always happens when I'm not here," he muttered, swirling the candy around in his mouth with his tongue.

"My day gets better when you're here, though." 

"Stop flirting! We're at work!" Jisung laughed, pushing Minho's shoulder until the demon feigned he was about to fall backwards and Jisung caught his other hand and pulled him forward. Minho took the opportunity to kiss his forehead.

The two fell into a comfortable silence. The music box playing its sweet melody served as background noise, accompanying them in that lazy afternoon where neither of them felt like getting on their duties yet. They just basked in each other's company, how familiar yet new it felt to be together.

"I could do this for the rest of my life," said Minho, low and gentle, only for Jisung to hear.

"That's a long time," Jisung replied, as soft as the demon. _It's like, forever_.

Minho smiled at him, his lips a beautiful shade of pink that matched the faint color that had bloomed in his cheeks, and his eyes, his eyes that were so warm, so loving, and Jisung had never felt this alive.

"It is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and Jisung finally got paid the following week.
> 
> this is it, everyone, hope it was as enjoyable to read as it was for me to write  
> chapter dedicated to my sweet bean, thank you for all your help and support ~  
> see you in my next story! (whenever that happens lmao)


End file.
